by Paige Notaro
His brow was all furrowed though, like he was already in some dark dream. I hoped it was at something in his past and not aimed at me.
“Sleep tight, teddy bear,” I whispered. “And thanks again.”
I tiptoed out and stumbled down the hall. I still couldn’t really believe what had happened. Or what Calix had done for me.
Was it for me?
Maybe not. But even after my shift ended, even after I went home and told Mamá and Elsa that my day was fine, even as I lay in my bed, I remembered those crystal eyes studying me, seeing me for who I was.
They seemed more unsure of me than I was of him. I could hardly tell why.
But unsure was still better than nothing. It meant that part of him felt the same thing I felt.
I could only hope it was the bigger part.
CHAPTER FOUR
Calix
I blurred in and out of sleep most of that Monday. My leg throbbed like there was something inside trying to nudge its way out. It kept me from getting too deep into sleep.
Even when I did fade, my dreams were full of Rosa.
They were not innocent dreams.
The only big disruption was a call from my commanding officer, Sgt. Lilton. I’d flapped awake, still not completely myself.
“You shot yourself?” were his first words when I picked up.
“Sergeant? Yeah. Yes. It was a dumb mistake, sir.”
“Sir? I work for a living, Black.”
“Of course, Sergeant.” I rubbed my face. “My mistake.”
“That is the undoubtedly the first mistake I have ever witnessed you make. Where’s your head, Corporal? Are you up in some shit?”
“No.”
Another lie. Each seemed a magnet for the next.
He sighed heavily. “Don’t fuck with me, Corporal.”
“No fucking, Sergeant.”
“Well, the hospital says you’re mostly ok. How do you feel?”
“The leg was barely grazed. I’ll be checking out in short time.”
“Listen to the doctors and take your time. ”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Alright. Montego will be coming down to start his investigation. You can talk, right?”
Shit.
Of course this was coming. I just thought my independent arrival here would delay it until I could get to base.
Montego headed up the Military Police at McPherson. He’d just come back from South Korea, where they took that job very seriously. I didn’t want that Latino hound dog anywhere near the bullet.
“Sergeant, I can be back at the base tomorrow. I prefer to rest today.”
“There’s no rush to come back. He just wants to talk, that’s all.”
“I’d prefer to work.”
A perilous moment came and went.
Lilton chuckled. “Boy, I sure hope you didn’t fuck up. You’ve got a long way to rise here with work ethic like that. Alright, we’ll see you here tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
I set the phone down and stared at it. Montego must be digging already. Lilton’s words were no guarantee that he wouldn’t come collect the bullet. The hospital might have already sent it to him.
I reminded myself it would tell him nothing, but I didn’t want loose ends. Not with my people’s freedom on the line. I needed to head back and keep his attention away from here.
I tested my leg. A light twist and the throb turned into a barely-contained howl.
After dinner, I took the pain meds.
They swept me out over a warm lake. My body felt weightless, like I was floating on nothing. My mind stilled and I could sleep.
I drifted into a dreamscape dark in mood, dark in color. Rosa seemed nowhere in sight. I walked through the brush lands of Afghanistan at night.
The wind shifted in an unnatural whirl. I turned around. A ghostly silhouette tracked me, a swirling mass of scarves and sheer cloth. When it came close, I could see Rosa’s face emerge from shadow, see her small nose, her lush mouth.
But she was never bare to me. Darkness always shrouded her.
I felt no fear, but I kept moving towards the empty horizon ahead. In my mind I walked for days, with her always at my back.
I woke at a proper hour, feeling more rested. Again though, my phone was buzzing. I checked the screen. It was my father.
“Is it safe to talk?” he asked in his low, sonorous voice.
“This is my military number,” I reminded him. I had left my own phone in the saddle of my bike, parked in a garage nearby. I didn’t trust it wouldn’t be taken as evidence.
“I see,” he said. “How have things been going?”
“I’m doing well. The wound was minor as far as bullets go.”
“That’s good, Calix.” His voice didn’t warm a degree. “How about other matters?”
“The police came by. There was nothing for them to find, of course.”
“Very good. I’m gladdened to hear this.”
His silence lingered. Eventually, he said. “Well, I’ll pray for your recovery. We’ll talk when you are out.”
I wondered what he would have asked if the line was private. He was no detective or doctor. He could offer no advice on the bullet or suggestions for my health.
Maybe he wanted to apologize for persuading me to accept the operation that landed me here.
The Storm’s Soldiers’ president, Homer, had mentioned what he wanted from me so casually. It was just ‘another drug run’ for him. It was entirely new to me.
This was not the club I knew before I had left to enlist. I might have turned him down, but when I met with my father later for dinner, he had persuaded me it was for the cause.
Everything was justified for the cause. We both understood that.
But it didn’t mean the cause could justify a stupid action. I was starting to understand just where that train of thinking had landed my old crew in the two years I’d been away.
When I’d left the Storm’s Soldiers MC, the whole gun-running operations was in shambles. Our only client, the big Cartel operation in Atlanta, was gouging us on prices. As a result, our suppliers at the army base had dropped out. They hadn’t been in it on principle, just for a cut of the spoils.
I’d enlisted with the aim to get back to McPherson on the inside and pick up where we left off. The odds were low. The risks were high and numerous - disability, death, torture by a foreign enemy I had little quarrel with.
I needed an exemplary service record to get back here, so I performed. Not for the money but for the cause. The Soldiers were supposed to find more buyers.
Instead, they turned to dealing meth. The Cartel didn’t like competition.
Homer tried to justify it all with money. The bodies, the police attention, the vileness of dealing drugs. He’d even won over my father. But it was not the thing I’d signed up for.
I would not help, but I would never turn them over either. I would protect the cause as I always had.
I just didn’t know to what ends anymore.
I tested my leg again after breakfast. The knife blade had shrunk to a stiletto. I popped a pill and turned tentatively over the edge of the bed. My legs dangled like puppets after just days of disuse. I’d have to be careful.
I eased myself onto the floor, good leg, then bad. I shuffled through a few steps, equalizing the weight with each move. The room swayed under my pill haze, but the pain stayed dull. This would be fine as long as I stayed on desk duty.
My clothes lay nearby. I had just finished dressing when footsteps shuffled to a stop nearby.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Rosa stood at the door, dressed in a moss green gown. Her dark hair was held back in a slick ponytail. She was panting as if she’d run over from some procedure.
Even seeing like this made it hard to leave. It was good I couldn’t remember my dreams.
“I’m going to go,” I said.
“You were shot just two days ago. You’re nowhere n
ear ready to go.”
She gripped the sides of the door, her face prickling with irritation. She looked like a sweet dark cactus, firmly rooted. I wondered whether I could lift her out of the way.
Then I wondered if I would be able to set her back down.
“I shot myself,” I said quickly. “It was minor. Get someone to discharge me.”
“Mr. Black, you are not recovered.”
“Bring the doctor,” I said. “Do I need to call a different nurse?”
Her anger collapsed like a paper structure. She looked afraid and wounded.
I couldn’t stand the sight. I couldn’t stand having caused the sight. I had the apology on my lips before I caught myself.
This was why I didn’t want meds.
“Why won’t you let me help you?” Rosa said.
“You’re not going to fix me,” I said. “That’s my body’s job. I’d rather pass the time somewhere other than here.”
Her mood darkened. I remembered yesterday. What was this about? It ran deeper than just the death of her father. I wanted to know.
“Do you need more help with that doctor?” I asked. “I can talk with him.”
“No! That’s not necessary.”
“So you’ll be fine without me.”
“I’ll manage. Yesterday was…fun. But it’s not a good long term plan.”
She was smiling faintly though, lost in memory.
“I would have done a better job if I wasn’t bedridden,” I said. “Or if I was somewhere less public.”
“No no no.” But she let out a tiny laugh. It sounded like wind chimes on a cool day.
I watched her mouth move mischievously. She had a sharp chin, a dainty thing that showed clear in good moods. Her eyes were just as sharp, her whole body seemed to be lit up from some unknowable energy.
Fierce, intelligent and caring. It was a rare trio. If only there was some way I could have her. Suddenly, I had to know.
“What are you?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you black or not?”
I regretted it immediately. It sounded coarse even in my ears
Rosa snorted, her smile vaporized. “What kind of question is that?”
Fucking meds.
“I apologize. I’m just confused.”
“Oh, that’s been clear for a long time.” She seemed to puff up a bit. “I’m Venezuelan-American.”
“South American?”
“I was born there, but I didn’t stay long.”
“You don’t look Latino.”
She snorted again, this time, like a bull. “I don’t look Latino? What do I look like?”
I had dug myself into a latrine. “I’m really not sure.”
“You don’t know or you don’t want to know? I’m Latino and I’m black. Both things are possible. It is about culture not skin color.”
“Hmm.” There was more to say on the topic, but I couldn’t voice anything right. I wasn’t even sure I could fight this little woman in my state.
“Hmm? That’s it?” She shook a stray hair off her forehead.
“I really didn’t mean to offend. I’m just curious.”
“And now you’re enlightened. What will you do with this new knowledge you now possess about me?”
I was truly at a loss. “Can I have my doctor now?”
“Alright, I’ll get you your freaking doctor.”
She gave me this quick one over and left in a huff.
My body was warm. It had come on all of a sudden.
Part of it was embarrassment - a rare enough feeling for me. Part of it was her heat infecting me.
I loved strong woman. Warmth could comfort you, but fire could give you life.
Still, even if she wasn’t what I thought she was, she was well beyond my reach. I understood the reasoning behind the lines my father drew.
My reactions to her body weren’t enough justification to cross them.
Rosa came back with a female doctor. The woman looked like a frayed bush. She took in the sight of me standing tall and told me I could go.
Rosa and I were left to eye each other.
“So you’re all set,” she said calmly. “Sorry about that little outburst.”
“You had a right to be offended.
“I do as a person. But not as a nurse.”
“You’re no longer my nurse.” I smiled. “So you can feel what you feel.”
Her eyes fell to my chest. It was their natural landing spot, but I saw them moving, felt them trace the muscles I had built with years of duty.
“What I feel…” She took a long breath. “I feel that you should think before you speak a bit more. Also? Be more careful around guns. I mean, you’re around a lot of them.”
I laughed. She gave me a pure smile.
This girl could spin from dark to light and back faster than a top. I liked watching it way too much.
There was no denying it anymore. I had an attraction to her. It went beyond her body.
“Ok.” She smiled and said the words I should have been thinking instead: “Let’s get you out of here.”
“I know how to leave.”
“Alright, then. You can go.”
Neither of us moved. She still stood in my path. I was almost grateful.
Rosa trembled, then said. “The price is a hug though.”
She held out her arms. Her body lay open to me.
I had been living like a monk. Overseas, it made sense. I’d been back for weeks though. I’d been so focused on slipping into my new role at the base, that I hadn’t even ticked a finger at a girl in a bar. That’s all it would have taken.
Now this gift had been dropped in my lap. This package wrapped wrong.
But Rosa looked beyondamazing. Even in the wrinkled, oversized scrubs, her body pressed through in all the right spots.
I saw what every other man would see. This woman was gorgeous.
I went to her like a bullet in reverse. Thought never entered the process. I hunched over and took her in my arms. Her sharp little chin swayed against my thick shoulder, surprisingly tender.
I imagined it going deeper, her entire face landing in the crook of my neck, her body melting around my grip, shedding its form over my hard ridges.
No, that was too much. I tried to let go, but now it was Rosa hanging on. My hand slipped on her back and landed on something hard.
I realized with a rush what it was. Her card.
I didn’t know what sort of clearance nurses were given. This wasn’t a secure facility, so a lot was possible.
I didn’t want to hurt Rosa, but she shouldn’t miss this much. I had to take this chance. I had to protect my people.
I pinched the clip up off her pants.
We separated. I cupped the card discreetly in my palm as I withdrew.
Rosa practically glowed at me. Her eyes were dimmed as if lost in a dream. I loved the look. I fucking hated that it was on me.
“Alright,” I said.
She edged out of the way and released me.
I wandered the halls, feeling the traces of her heat fade from me. In their absence was a chill, a deep lack of her.
I could have had her. Instead, I had this piece of plastic that might not even get me anywhere.
It was for the cause. It was justified.
And, she…well, she took me far away from the cause. Her pressed up against me would be the opposite.
Briefly, I wondered if it wouldn’t just be worth it.
It didn’t matter. I would only end up hurting her. There was nothing that could last between us. And I did not ever want to be the cause for more sorrow on that sweet face. Let her find a man like her who could treat her how she deserved.
Who treated her the way I wanted to.
Some minutes later, I found a locked door labeled Surgical Storage. The badge opened it.
The room was no bigger than a bathroom, full of a few metal racks and cabinets with items in plastic bags. It seemed like the rig
ht spot. I worked quickly and found my name in a folder.
Against all odds, a plastic bag with a few shards of bullet lay inside.
I pocketed it and exited quickly. There were no cameras that I could see. I guessed that most items found in surgery would have little criminal implication.
I headed out into a bright Atlanta morning. The sun was just starting to boil the air. The breezes that blew past felt as good as if they blew through the old forests my father used to take me to camp in.
Took us to camp in - me and my brother both.
Thinking about that past made me feel like a lone tree in a clearing. Exhaustion settled back down over me.
There was no way I was riding my bike like this. The engine’s growl might just rattle the stitches free. I would probably topple onto the road within a block.
I hailed a taxi and told him the way to camp and we head off from downtown. I stretched out in the back, letting the day shift off me. The driver played music that would have been at home in Kabul: ululating voices and choked flutes. My thoughts went with the melody.
I had done well by every measure the army used in my time there. A safe operation was a point of pride. The threats were real, and so were the successes. I had run up the ranks quickly and was given men to lead. They liked my directness and my commitment to their safety.
I reminded myself from time to time that it was for the cause. It was to get back to Atlanta. But it turned out that I had plenty of motivation to do well aside from that.
Not like here. Now I was back, and nothing I was doing seemed to be moving us anywhere. We weren’t even treading water, just splashing around - attracting predators.
There was so much to do, so much fighting left and already I was exhausted trying to just keep us afloat.
I’d clung to my father’s words my whole life, but he was nothing more than a preacher: a marketer and a voice for the movement. And nothing he’d said since returning had soothed my mind about this road we were on.
The Storm’s Soldiers had become more a street gang than even a militia. If I wanted something solid to grasp onto I would have to create it myself. To remind my father what we were even about.
Only I wasn’t even sure anymore. My father had been my compass. I couldn’t find north on my own.
The only real things since I’d gotten back had happened in my time on base, training men almost a decade younger for the heat of gunfire.
